Per Fretum Sterilitas by Steven Bishop I joy, that in these straits, I see my West –John Donne I find myself awash from violent waves To foreign shores, and no map my body, My heart, my mind can find to ford my rage, No flotsam I can grab but the shoddy Pledge of the fickle god Technology. My body cannot perform the music, Cannot respond to spirit’s poetry To body forth lyrics of the muses Into springtime strength and vitality, And I’m left pondering, bruised, and lonely. O Teacher, who became a song of life, Instruct me how to join my East and West, And how to meet with open arms my strife And struggle, form my wrestling into rest. Is it by wound of love that Jacob’s blessed? I see no ladder coming down to earth, Or rather one that’s broken, missing rungs. How can a marriage bring the soul to birth Without its parenthood; a song unsung, A tapestry unwoven, thread unspun. Imago Dei, who strikes the very soul Into the likeness of the Father’s face, Come down to rescue me from deadly shoals Of rage, the lonely sea of grief, and take Me through the sterile straits to teach me grace.
Steven Bishop graduated with a BA Theology from Briercrest College, and has spent most of the last decade working as a coffee roaster. He lives in Regina, SK with his wife, son, and Shetland sheepdog. He’s currently a full-time father, and spends evenings and nap-time writing poems and painting byzantine iconography.